A/N: Okay, I'm finally back with another chapter. This chapter is a bit special, for the fact that it will mention some real historical events and something I'm guessing that hasn't been attempted yet in an SAO fanfic.

As you read this chapter, please don't hesitate to comment whether you liked what I did, or if you see something you feel is off and doesn't really fit in the story.

I'll be writing the next chapter after August 9th, which is my birthday (I'm planning to hang out with my friends for that day).

Now, please enjoy this chapter and tell me whether you liked it or not.

Disclaimer: I don't own SAO, its characters, or the OSTs. They belong to Kawahara Reki-sensei and Kajiura Yuki-sensei, respectively!


Chapter 17 – A Mother's Love – Part 2: The Letter.


April 2nd, 2026, 9 PM, Tokyo General Hospital.

Shouzou made his way up to his wife's ward in a state of slight urgency. After arriving at the hospital, he was informed by the reception that she had woken up several hours ago. So now that she was awake, he made his way up to her, with two particular items in his hand, believing that if she saw their contents now, he may finally be able to persuade her to cease the suitor meeting, which he hoped in turn would convince Asuna to come back perminantly when Kouichirou brought her back.

When he arrived at the ward, he entered after giving a knock, not waiting for a response. When he entered, he saw that Kyouko was indeed awake and sitting on the bed.

As she saw her husband enter her ward, Kyouko stared at him with a blank and unreadable expression. He finally decided to speak up and get to the point.

"I see you're awake." He said in relief.

"You look like you want something from me." She stated blankly. This answer made him frown in response.

"Oh, is that really the first thing to say, after you scared me half to death like you did yesterday?" Shouzou asked sharply.

"Well, what else do you want me to say then? My own children hate me and want nothing to do with me… even though I meant well for them…" She answered sadly, looking like she would start crying. Her husband took a seat beside her bed.

"We both did. I bear the blame for this as well. But before anything, I have something to show you." He then handed her a newspaper that was in his hand.

"This was in today's news headline. Don't ask anything, just read it." He said.

She took the newspaper from his hands to take a look at it. Reading its contents, her eyes opened wide in disbelief. What she read was the following:

'Heir of the Murayama Financials arrested for kidnapping and sexual assault charges.'

(A/N: Play the OST: "Past Sadness")

As she read on, she grew more and more appalled. This candidate had kidnapped and confined several girls for several months! What would've happened if they had gone through with this and had that wretch meet with Asuna? She had made another mistake; another bad decision that would've ended up in Asuna's misery.

She put the newspaper down and stayed still where she was, still shocked. She had thought that nothing could possibly make her feel any worse for herself after waking up from that horrific nightmare this morning. How wrong she was…

"Before you ask, I've already cancelled the meeting with the Murayama's. I've also put all the meetings with the other families on indefinite hold. I'm planning on cancelling all of the meetings that we'd planned for both Asuna and Kouichirou. I assume that you have no argument against that?" Shouzou asked. It took her a while to respond, but she eventually nodded her head, confirming his assumption.

"Listen, I've given this a lot of thought since yesterday. Why doesn't Asuna trust us? It was because we didn't trust her in return. We need to start over and put some faith in her. That has to be the first step before anything." He said. Kyouko still stayed silent, evidently unable to form a response. Seeing this, he finally decided to get to the real point.

"If that doesn't convince you, then here, take a look at this." He said, handing her an opened envelope of a letter.

"What is this?" She asked, taking it from his hand.

"Something that I believe you need to see. I found that letter in your study, in one of the lower shelves. If I had to guess, it was given to Asuna when she was young and she put it there, hoping that you would see it, judging by where it was put at." He answered.

"A letter, for me…? But, why didn't she just give this to me directly?" She asked, confused.

"I suppose we were always out of the house working that she had to do that when she got the letter. Just take a look at it. With everything that's happened, I think that you should be able to understand what she was trying to tell us." He said.

"She?" Kyouko asked. She took a closer look at the envelope of the letter.

To Kyouko and Shouzou.

That was what was written on the envelope. But then, she gasped as she recognized the handwriting.

'Mother…?' Kyouko thought as she opened the envelope and took out the letter inside. The letter was several pages long. She started reading the letter written by her mother.


To my beloved daughter Kyouko and son-in-law Shouzou.

By the time you read this letter, your father and I may no longer be in this world…

There were a lot of things that we had wanted to tell you about for a long time, but we could never find the appropriate time to discuss it, with you always keeping yourself busy.

Eversince you were born, you've been our treasure, and that fact will never change. And I know that you and Shouzou feel the same way for Kouichirou and Asuna. So, that's why I hope that you take some of your time to read this letter to the end.

Please don't take my words as nagging or scolding, but as advices, as well as reminders of what being a family is about.

Let's start from the beginning… starting from myself.

I was born in 1950, in a region not far from the now South Korea's capital, Seoul.

Not long after I was born, the Korean War broke out in the country. And not long after, the village my family resided in was raided by the Communist forces, killing many of its inhabitants. My parents barely managed to escape the village with their lives with me, but not before witnessing the deaths of many of their friends and neighbors at their hands.

Reduced to refugees with no place to call home, my parents and other refugees hid out in the mountains to get away from the war. However, soon it became clear that the war was spreading throughout the entire nation like widefire. More and more soldiers from both sides began to show up on the mountains we hid at, and it soon became another battlefield with us caught in the crossfire again. Again, my parents and only a few surviving others barely managed to escape with their lives.

And if that wasn't enough, after they escaped, when they approached the South Korean soldiers, thinking that they would be able to help them get to safety, they were arrested instead, believing that they were North Korean spies disguised as refugees. So they were forced to flee from them, once again losing many of their fellow refugees in the process.

Realizing that it was no longer safe anywhere in the Korean Peninsula with the war going on, and neither side could be trusted, my parents and the few remaining refugees decided to find a way to flee the country, for our safety.

And with the help of the American forces that arrived to help fight against the Communists, they were able to leave the country and arrive in Tokyo, which was at the time, occupied by the American forces after Japan's surrender in the Second World War.

I was too young to remember any of this, however, and I had lived in Japan for as long as I could remember.

And, although my parents and their few remaining friends escaped the clutches of war, our troubles were far from over.

Living in the nation that they were unfamiliar with was a difficult task, but they judged that it was far better than constantly living their lives in fear in death's shadow.

Not only that, because of our refugee status, as well as the prejudice we faced from the majority of the Japanese population, we had to live in a life of poverty, with little means of food or resources. Even with the jobs they earned with difficulty we were struggling to survive. But even so, I was happy because I had a place to call home with my family.

The Korean War would last until 1953, and my parents had debated whether they should attempt to return when the war was over, but when it actually ended, the nation had been divided into two. So no one would be able to tell if another war would break out or not. So for our safety, they decided to remain in Japan. And even if they had decided to return, by that time, the American occupation of Japan had ended, and they also couldn't afford the ride back to their homeland.

At the time, my only source of comfort and strength were my parents and their friends. After all, they were all that I had at the time.

But eventually, the poor life conditions we faced began to take their toll on them. My parents and the others fell ill, and we couldn't afford the hospital fee either, since we had no valid citizenship. And although we pleaded with the hospitals to treat us, rejection was our only answer. So I could do nothing but watch as their conditions got worse and worse. And by the time I was seven, they had all passed away from their illnesses.

With no where left to go and with no other options, I had to resort to pickpocketing and stealing from various places in order to survive. And at the time, I felt no remorse about stealing from them. As far as I was concerned, they were all the same; the same selfish lot that had left my family for dead, just because they couldn't profit from helping them.

This solitary life on the streets continued for about 2 years, until one day, when I attempted to pickpocket from a couple who seemed to be in their 30s in the market, but was caught in the process. I tried to run away, but was caught in the end. Even when I was caught, I struggled to get away from them, not knowing what they were planning to do with me. When I did face them, I was prepared to see angry faces yell at me. But instead, I was surprised to see them with calm expressions that you wouldn't expect from people who had just been robbed. But this only frightened me further.

They then asked why I had stolen from them; their voices as calm as their expressions. So I answered, because it was my only choice in order to survive. And as if my previous surprise wasn't enough, their expression turned to that of a sad one at hearing my response.

Confused and scared, I gave them the things I had stolen from them and told them to leave me alone. Running away from them, I was half expecting them to chase after me again, but they didn't. I just couldn't understand why they were looking so sad. Even now, their expressions still haunt me.

I thought that I had seen the last of them that day, but I ran into them again a few days later, apparently looking for me. Thinking that they were going to hand me over to the police, I kept running from them.

This process repeated several times for the next few weeks. Tired of being chased down, I finally decided to confront them. I asked them why they wanted to catch me so badly. But in response, they told me that they weren't planning to turn me over to the police. Of course, I was reluctant to trust them at first. But then, they gave me their address and invited me over to dinner at their home, surprising me even further. I still couldn't trust them and hesitated to accept their seemingly generous offer. But I hadn't eaten anything for days, so it was an offer that I couldn't resist. So ultimately, I agreed and went to their home.

The place the couple called home was a relatively small house with nothing to boast about. But to me, who had lived in the slums and the streets, it looked like a haven.

They gave me a change of clothes that was just about my size and told me to get changed after taking a shower.

Afterwards, coming down to their kitchen, I saw that they had prepared all sorts of food that I could only dream of eating when living out in the streets. Although they said that the food they made were nothing special, but to me at the time, it was the best food I had ever eaten.

After eating to my heart's content, I decided to ask the question that had been plaguing me since our first encounter: Why they were so fixated on me, a street kid with nothing to give. To this, they answered that they had already seen me several times in the market and the streets, stealing and begging for leftovers. Again, I was puzzled beyond belief. If they had already witnessed me stealing multiple times, then why had they not tried to catch me sooner, and now that they did get a hold of me, then why were they not turning me into the police?

When I asked those questions, they assured me that they had no intention of handing me over to the police. And as for my first question, they only answered that it was because of old memories and then, the woman looked like she was about to cry.

Baffled, I tried to ask more, but her husband gently raised his hand, silently asking me to not ask any further. The lady, who seemed like she barely managed so stop herself from crying, asked me to come back the next day, at the same time for another meal at their place. Before I even noticed, I had accepted their offer.

When I was going to change back to my old clothes before leaving, the couple asked me to keep the clothing; that it would do no one any good to keep clothes that they had no need for.

I was at a loss for words at this point. The couple that I barely knew was showing such kindness to the one who had attempted to steal from them.

I could barely sleep that night. Not from starvation this time, but from countless questions. Try as I might, I couldn't think of a reason why the couple would take an interest in me; and to give me something far more generous than what I could have ever expected; something I hadn't felt eversince the death of my family: care.

So, wanting to find out the answers to my question, I decided to return to their home the next day, wearing the same clothes that they had given to me the day before.

This time around, they seemed to be in a more cheerful mood than the previous day. As we ate, they attempted to start up casual conversations. I tried my best to keep that going without getting awkward, but the lingering questions in my mind as well as being in solitude for a long time made that a difficult task. But in the end, I don't know how, but I believe that I managed to get the conversation going without breaking the flow.

After we were finished, I hesitated in trying to ask them the question again, after seeing the reaction the lady had given the last time I asked. But then, as if they knew what I was thinking, they finally told me the answer.

(A/N: Play the OST: "At Our Parting – Piano only Version")

They started telling me more of themselves; of a story that I could tell was painful to recall for them; not long after the end of the Second World War, the couple had gotten married and soon had a daughter together. But she was very frail from birth; and they had to have her go through treatments to keep her alive. But in the end, she passed away not long after she turned 7. I was shocked. She was around my age when she died. After hearing about their loss, I felt guilty for the first time in my life.

We had both lost people precious to us, so we understood each other.

After they revealed their painful past to me, I started to visit them more frequently, and try to ease their pain. This new routine in my life continued for a while. And after discovering more and more about them, I found myself feeling happy in a long time. It had been so long since I had let others get so close in my heart eversince I lost my family.

Then, few months after I started coming over to visit the couple, they gave me an offer that would change my life. After giving much thought, they had decided, since I had no where in particular to call home and they both wanted to get over the grief of their daughter's death for good, they proposed that I come live with them for good.

I was stunned once again. They had already given me fare more than what I could've ever imagined, and now they were able to surprise me yet again.

Although I was a bit hesitant at first, because this was such a life changing decision for me at the time, but in the end, after some discussions with them, I decided to accept their offer. We both new the pain of losing a family, so we could be there for each other, and during the time I visited them, I had found myself caring for them and wanting to help them without realizing it.

And so, that was how I met my foster parents. Thanks to their kindness, I was able to find a new life; as well as find a new place to call home. And so, with this new life I discovered with my foster parents, I decided to leave my life on the streets behind me.

And although I haven't, by any means forgotten about my birth parents, I decided to live on for their sakes, instead of living in the shadow of their deaths; to live my life to the fullest.

A few days later, I was legally adopted into my new found family. And soon after, I was able to go to school, which was a dream come true for me at the time. Had I continued my life on the streets, it wouldn't have been possible. Although I had to hide my true heritage from my classmates at the time, as well as the fact that I was adopted, I was still happier than I had ever been. As time went, I was able to make friends and study like normal children.

This tranquil life continued for the rest of my time as an elementary student. It wasn't until I became a middle school student that my life changed once again. It was then that I first met your father.


A/N: Okay, that's it for this chapter. It may be a bit of a sudden cut, but if I'd included the whole letter in this one chapter, it would've taken too long, and I think I've kept you waiting long enough. I hope you guys enjoyed. This was a tough chapter to write, with having to do some research in to the historical aspect of this chapter. And I hope that the letter part also made sense to you all. I can't tell you how many changes I had to make to the letter to make its contents seem sensible. The rest of the letter will be continued in the next chapter.

As for the reason for having Kyouko's mother being a Korean whose family fled the country because of the Korean War, I felt kind of compelled to have another Korean character in the story, after all, Kawahara-sensei did have Siune (An Si-Un) to be a Korean decendent.

Also, how was the letter written so far? Were you able to understand it well? Was there anything to criticize about it? Let me know in the description.

I'll start working on chapter 18 soon. Please look forward to it.

As always, please leave a comment and PM to let me know what you think.

Yours truly, KiritoIRL.